


buried in venice.

by normanwell



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Death, Past Relationships, karl is a ghost, no betas we die like gnf in manhunt, other feral boys are mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:40:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29986461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/normanwell/pseuds/normanwell
Summary: karl is a ghost who lives alone atop a hill. someone visits, but it doesn't go the way he hoped.
Relationships: GeorgeNotFound/Karl Jacobs
Comments: 10
Kudos: 14





	buried in venice.

Karl watched. It was all he could do. He twirled around the trees and candle-lit street lamps. It was all so cold. He didn’t know the last time he had been  _ warm _ . Karl's fingers felt like ice against his skin, not even his brightly colored purple and blue hoodie could keep the warmth in.

Karl lingered on a hill, waiting. Waiting for someone to visit him. He waited for years, but no one came.

The brunette was alone, he had decided.

So, he sat on a lonesome hill away from the city. He played with the animals in the foliage. He threw rocks at trees. He even went back to town to steal a lantern. It was his only light in the dark. Soft orange light-tinted his semi-transparent body.

He missed the feeling of the ground.

Being a ghost was disorienting. He had been dead for years, yet he never got used to the fact he’d sink into the ground if he got too close. Karl missed the warm embrace of his friends, or the kind smiles his mother would give him when he was sent off to school, or to catch the bus.

He missed skateboarding with his friends- even when he fell off his board and scraped the hell out of his knees.

Things he took for granted. He wished he hadn’t.

Karl remembered the first time he saw the other boy. Standing tall with a cyan-blue shirt and white-rimmed goggles. He looked silly, but Karl thought it was interesting. He had short chocolate brown hair that was either neat or messy- there was no in-between.

The second time he saw the other was a few weeks after. He was with two boys taller than him, one with raven hair and a white headband. He was jumping up and down, shaking his shoulders as they walked. The other boy was tall and blonde and wore a smiley mask. It was precariously balanced on the back of his head, liquid gold hair falling over lime ribbon. He laughed at the boy bouncing off the walls. The boy with goggles looked less than amused, but he still put up with his antics.

They felt oddly familiar, but Karl couldn’t place a finger on it. There was a fuzzy haze when he tried to think of why. It hurt his head to think about.

The third time Karl had seen the other boy, he was with a boy in a blue beanie and blue jacket. The boy in the beanie screamed profanities and laughed with his gut. He shouted  _ “George!” _ when the boy in goggles scoffed at one of his jokes.

George? Was that his name? Karl liked that. He thought his name was pretty, as generic as it was.

The last time he saw the boy- George- was a few days ago.

The sky was grey, and small drops of rain fell from the sky. They hit soft grass and ruffled the trees. He was alone that day. No boys with masks or bandanas or beanies. He held a small bundle of flowers. They ranged from pink to blue to orange, even the occasional green.

Karl floated over his shoulder, hands behind his back. His legs kicked behind him, flicking his head to get his hair out of his eyes. George was looking at a headstone. The writing was illegible and hard to read. At least to Karl.

Who’s was it?

Karl flinched as the other lifted his arm to remove the goggles from his face revealing tear-filled eyes and stained cheeks. Karl frowned. How could he help? Karl let his legs fall below him, trying to stay as close to the ground as possible. He rested a gentle hand on George’s shoulder, flinching away when the other shivered. Was that because of him? Or was it because of the rain? Karl couldn’t tell.

George knelt to place the flowers against the headstone. His hand lingered around the stems. George’s knees dropped to soggy grass, staining black jeans. He shook, silent. Karl watches as rainwater fell down pale arms and soaked into dark hair. He mumbled quiet apologies as he brought his palms to his eyes.

Karl wrapped transparent arms around the other's shoulders. He didn’t slip through like he thought he would.

Everything was so cold and George was so warm. Comforting.

“I miss you,” George whispered, running his finger under his nose. Karl blinked. Who was he talking about? Karl’s head hurt. Karl wanted to cry, but he couldn’t. Why wouldn’t the tears come out? Why couldn’t he cry?

Karl tried to squeeze George tighter and closer, but it didn’t work.

His mind was fuzzy. It hurt. Karl let go of George. Karl needed to go. He felt so cold now. He missed the warmth that George offered. Why was it so cold? It shouldn’t be cold. Karl wrapped his arms around himself to find some sense of security.

George stood up, brushing stray blades of grass from his knees. He turned on his heel and left, and Karl let him. What was he to do? Karl couldn’t just shout at him and tell him to stay.

Karl was cold.

He was alone.

He didn’t see George for a year after the encounter. Karl sat next to the candle-lit lantern, knees curled to his chest, chin planted on one of his hands. Where had George gone? He and his friends had stopped making appearances around town- George hadn’t visited the headstone since that rainy day.

Karl wanted nothing more than for George to come back.

But he never did.

**Author's Note:**

> hope u liked it!! this was a lot shorter than what i normally do but i like it :D kudos n comments are appreciated !!
> 
> follow me on twt @normanwellx for updates :D


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